


Liberate You Of Your Wild Curiosity

by FlowerCrownOfPoppy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bad Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Other, how does one categorize a ship between a genderless eldritch god and a severely stressed manlet, lots of weird longing from both parties here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29268042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerCrownOfPoppy/pseuds/FlowerCrownOfPoppy
Summary: Jon makes a choice that has nothing to do with revenge.(Spoilers up to episode 193.)
Relationships: The Beholding/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	Liberate You Of Your Wild Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated M for some strong sexual undertones but nothing explicit. Also cw for eye trauma and just all around weird eldritch nonsense.

_That's exactly what it wants._

The truth of that settles with a heavy weight somewhere between his ribs. He turns it over and over in his mind, unable to help the simple, predictable question that follows:

_Why?_

Jon tilts his head back. Martin is in his peripheral, lips moving to form a question of his own.

**Because I took your ruined heart and made it pump again**

Jon's body locks in place. All the breath in his lungs is unspooling from him like thread.

"Jon?" Martin asks from somewhere very far away. No, he's right next to him isn't he? He has to be.

**Because you are more than the blood and bone that confines you**

The answers that come to him set his veins alight with fuzzy heat. They're all-consuming in a way he can't define with tone or pitch or cadence. They just are. They're etched in the bone arena of his skull and behind his wide, unblinking eyes.

"Jon!?"

His legs quake. Jonah's endless chant and Martin's concerned shout all fade away to white noise as the toneless voice washes over him.

**Because I AM YOU and to be apart is tearing you up inside  
**

And it is, isn't it. It _hurts_. Jon dimly remembers how Gerard described his pain, how it's not like anything you can feel while alive. He thinks he can almost understand now what that's like, being caught between where he should be and where he is now. He steps forward with a desperate whine building in his throat because he's here and his true body is _there_ and he can't bear another fucking minute of this.

Martin's shouting his name more forcefully now, grabbing for him, but it's like trying to pick out an echo behind a waterfall. Dimly he's aware of the Panopticon's guardians flooding the room to stand between him and his...his...what were they again? The meaning's swept away in the chant and the yelling and the anticipation buzzing in the back of his mind. He tries to grasp for it because it _feels_ important but it's always just out of reach, droplets in a rising tempest.

**Come to me come come come my aching body my missing piece my resplendent vessel**

Jon could weep, if he wasn't so busy coming apart at the seams.  
  
He doesn't feel the stairs beneath his feet. He doesn't hear anything above the howling gale of the Pupil's chanting. All around him is terror and pain and the promise of purpose, of completion.

**Open your door to me let me in let me in make us whole**

Jon can only dully register the tears that spill down his face as he brings both hands to Elias's cheeks, thumbs digging in underneath each eye socket. _I'm sorry_ , he thinks, only not for Jonah. He can't remember who he's sorry to anymore. There's too many names and faces to count in this sad, singular body of his.

**Release me release us join together in union**

"Ceaseless Watcher." How strange his own voice sounds to himself –then again, it's not his voice anymore. Not really. Just another drop in the ocean. "I strike down your current vessel and offer myself to you. Take me. Make me as I – as _we_ are meant to be."

**Us**

**US**

**MINE.**

His fingers dig into the eye sockets of Elias Bouchard. Jonah Magnus screams. He screams. Beholding is howling in bliss and the world is growing bigger, brighter, and he is floating and laughing and the fear is flowing into every hollowed vein of him because he's finally _home_ –

Jonathan Sims ceases to be. 

The Ceaseless Watcher is reborn.


End file.
